How do you sum up 92 years of a mom? How do you illustrate kindness, a gentle soul a Neshma Tova?

The following anecdote encompasses the essence of our mom, Bella “Moody” Hadar:

A while back, mom and I were driving and I needed directions. Over the car speakers, I asked Siri. The bot provided me intricate directions that didn’t make sense. I tried again, to no avail. In my frustration, I told the personal assistant, how inapt she is, saying out loud to the speaker, “you don’t know what you are doing, totally stupid.”

Mom looked at me and said, “Etti, you don’t speak like that to anyone. Maybe the lady doesn’t know.”

Mom thought that Siri, the Artificial Intelligence bot, is a woman telephone operator.

In early 1949, mom volunteered to serve in the Israeli Air Force. She told me that she did not have to serve in the IDF. Her Father was a widower and all her 6 brothers were serving in various regiments. She could have received a permission not to enlist. Her father asked her if she wants to serve and she said, “yes.” She told me that she worked as a telephone operator because she knew few words in English and could help the Israeli Air Force, which had many foreign volunteers who wanted to collaborate with Israel’s struggle for its independence. She also worked in room X. It sounds to me like a “war room” or a command center. She described it as a big room with a long table a topped with model plans simulating small-scale operation.

The Israeli Air Force headquarter was housed at the Continental Hotel in Jaffa. One day, a young reporter, working for the Air Force Magazine, tried to court Mom. The graceful and sweet 19-year-old female soldier, told him, you are not my type and she gently rejected his attempts. The reporter did not give up and suggested for her to meet his boss, the 22-year-old, young magazine editor, Moshe Pomerantz. Pommy invited the female soldier to his office, on the fifth floor, using an excuse that he is preparing an article on females in the IAF. Which indeed he later published. He took one peek at the blue-eyed young soldier, Bella Levin, and was smitten. Pommy asked one of the photographers to take her pictures in the communication room and to start the interview process. He then joined them at the entrance to the headquarter. The photographer left and Pommy initiated a conversation with Bella. At some point, he decisively declared, "You are busy, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday."

Pommy nicknamed his beloved Bella, Moody, short of Hamooda, meaning sweetheart.

Mom was born on June 5th 1929 in Luniniatz, Belarus. The youngest daughter of Yitzhak Avraham Halevi Levin and Esther Malca Levin nee Schnidman. Bella had six brothers and one sister: Ariah (1914-19740, Tzvi (1917-2011), Zalman (1918-1996), Isaak-Izick (1920-1999), Dov (1922-2002), Yaffa (1924-2002) and Yaacov (1926-2018).

Her mother, Esther Malca had a premonition dream about the destruction of their town and demise of all the Jews. This propelled the family to leave Poland, and immigrated to Israel. Because of that dream we all gathered here today. The rest of the family, who stayed behind, perished in the Holocaust.

Mom was 5 years old, when the family boarded the ship SS Polonia and began their voyage from Constanţa, via Istanbul and Piraeus, arriving in Jaffa Port on November 25, 1934.

With mischievous sparkles in her baby blue eyes, mom often told us, how she, the 5 years old girl, run throughout the ship and opened all the doors.

Mom grew up in Sh’chu’nat Maccabi, a small neighborhood of modest huts made of wood with tin roofs. It was located on the border of Tel Aviv and Jaffa. They were surrounded by Arabs and the neighborhood, often was attacked by gangs and rioters. The British implemented martial law in Mandatory Palestine and imposed curfew. One time, mom and a friend were apprehended by the Mandate police, breaking the curfew. She was taken to the police station. Luckily, one of the officers recognized the name Levin. Her brother served in the Mandate police and they released them. Who knows what would have happened to these carefree young teenagers?

In 1946, at the age of 16, mom lost her beloved mother, Esther Malka. On her deathbed, the benevolent, Esther Malka, requested her daughter to continue her mitzvah of cooking and delivering Shabbat meals to the elderly and needy in the neighborhood. Mom kept her promise, and for years, each Friday and holidays she delivered food for the needy.

On September 3, 1950 Pommy and Moody tied the knot, in a humble ceremony at the now iconic, elementary school, Beit Hinuch Tzpon, which dad attended as a youngster. The Chief Rabbi of the Israeli Air Force, officiated the ceremony. Later that evening, they celebrated their nuptials with family and friends at Café Piltz, on the Tel Aviv Beach.

It was a time of the austerity (Tzena) in Israel. A policy imposed in the newly established State of Israel that included rationing and other emergency measures to weather the economic crisis in the early days of statehood. The Ministry of Rationing and Supply was formed. Every month, each citizen would get food coupons and each family was selected a given number of food items. The enforcement of austerity required the establishment of a bureaucracy of quite some proportions, which nonetheless proved ineffective in preventing the emergence of a black market in which rationed products—often smuggled from the countryside—were sold at higher prices.

Buying ingredients for the wedding celebration, on the black market was not an option, both financially and ethically. Dad, was an Israeli Air force officer and as straight as an arrow.

So, for months before the wedding, the whole Levin family started saving portion of the food coupons in order to use them in due time, to buy groceries and produce for the wedding. My mom and her sister, Yaffa, along with other family members were planning to cook the wedding spread.

Food and sharing of meals with others were a way of life at the Levin household. Mom would always tell me what my grandmother taught her, to share meals with guests. It is no big deal, her mother told her, we can always add few more cups of water to the soup pot. Mom carried this tradition into her adult life. She would not eat a meal, or a snack without always offering it to her family, caregivers and the people surrounding her. When there was not enough food, she would always say that she is not hungry.
At any opportunity, Mom loved to travel throughout Israel. Prior to the wedding she journeyed to Kibbutz Gvat in northern Israel. Located near Migdal HaEmek in the Jezreel Valley. On the way back she and her girlfriend hitchhiked with a group of guys returning to Tel Aviv. Mom, who made friends very easily, befriended one of the guys in the group. In the course of their conversation, she told him that she is getting married soon and planning a big banquet, and that the family has been saving for months the food coupons. The guy, out of nowhere, informed her that he works for the Ministry of Rationing and Supply, in charge of food coupons distribution. He asked her to contact him before the wedding and he will authorize all the necessary vouchers to obtain the needed supply. And the rest is history… Mom received all the essential ingredients to prepare a delicious wedding banquet.

Mom had a sweet tooth. She was the queen of chocolate. I am certain, that along with us, today, also mourning, Godiva, See’s Candies, Hersey and Splendid chocolates. Their best customer has moved on to a Heavenly Treat.

Mom had a fantastic sense of humor. She was dad’s muse and the one he will test all his materials on.

As mom’s memory stared to fade, she kept maintaining and preserving her sense of humor and dignity. One day, mom was watching one of her favorite shows, Murry. The show, I labeled Ha’m’turafim,” the crazies. Some of the “distinguished” and dysfunctional guests were using foul language. In all my life, I have never heard mom using foul language, Hebrew, Arabic or English. I told her that’s not good, you are learning swear and offensive words.

She answered, “don’t worry, I don’t remember anyway”. Humor is the Hadar family method, especially at times of adversity, to use in coping and communicating and the matriarch of the family was no different!

One late night, my cell phone was ringing, I glanced at the display and saw that it is from mom’s cell. I answered.

Mom: “Hamuda (sweetheart), I cannot find the cell telephone.”

Me: “But I put it earlier on your night table.” And then I realized what’s going on, saying to her, “mom but you are calling me from the cell phone.”

Mom: “Oy-vey Mothek, I am so sorry, this is very concerning and alarming.”

Me: “It is ok mom, call me again, whenever you cannot find the phone, Lila Tov (Good night).”

Mom had an unparalleled and raw artistic talent with a heightened sense of colors and composition as well as a remarkable patient and precision!

“Imagination is more important than knowledge” was mom’s borrowed motto from Einstein. It was more than a motto it was her way of life; a confirmation of her being.

Mom was a versatile artist who could execute anything perfectly, from soft sculpting to fashion design, accessories, and jewelry making. I used to wear, the most fashionable clothes, which she had labored making them night after night with love and talent. The purse and outfit, I wear here today, were made by mom, including an embroidered signature of my name on the sleeve. Her artistic endeavors extended behind the visual and fashionable art. Her well-trained taste palate is as diverse as her color pallet. She was an exceptional chef, way before it was fashionable to be called a “chef…” There was never a dish she couldn’t cook or a confection she couldn’t bake. Each time she ate a delicious dish, anywhere, she was able to duplicate and improve on it using her magical kitchen. When her beloved Pommy was newly diagnosed with diabetic at the age of forty-three, she devised a revolutionary menu to accommodate his needs, making sure, he could continue to enjoy most dishes and confections. Regardless of the above life altering events, Moody and Pommy’s remained a sweet couple…

Shortly after dad passed away, mom had a dream, in which dad is partying in heaven with old friends, who were part of their “Havura” (group). Mom felt jealous, why is he with them? Then she told me that she asked dad, “why didn’t you take me to the party?” And dad answered her, “Moody, it is not your time yet!” I think this dream and this communication behind the clouds was pivotal in allowing mom over 5 years of relative peace of mind and healing, knowing that they will reunite in a future party. I bet that they are now partying and dancing tango together.